Simple Research
by Kelthemos of Nismon
Summary: When Explorator Fleets discover a lost colony and a new race of mutants, they also discover a possibility to give the Imperium an edge in the never ending warfare. A Genetor Apprenta is sent to obtain the source of this advantage. Simple Research, right?


Adept-Menialis Lutho Arnier awoke to a loud cranking buzz. Giving a slight shout of fright he clumsily flailed his arms as he tried to ward off his attacker. When his arms met nothing but the chilled air of his hab quarters however, he stopped and sat confusedly.

A few moments later, the confused haze of his abrupt awakening faded and he realized that the buzzing was emanating from his own _head_. It was nothing more than his inbuilt noospheric connection; and it was receiving a comms line.

Although he did not share his hab, and there was no one to witness his blunder, he still grimaced sheepishly at himself before blinking rapidly. The haptic implants in his eyelids responded, manipulating the noosphere and selecting the communications node. As he opened the line, a familiar expressionless metal face and gruff, synthetic voice met his tired eyes.

"Lutho, get up boy! I need you at the Examerium; and quickly." Genetor Magos Dreyard Vorxan was a gruff man, even by Mechanicus standards, and he knew his overseer's demeanor was actually currently his approximation of friendly. A few moments later Dreyard's glowing green eye lenses flashed with agitation. "For Cog's sake, get out of bed! This is important!" with that the comm. Line cut out and Lutho was left in the darkness.

With a sigh, he slipped out of the warm confines of his sleep-sac. His bare feet stung on the cold tiles and he shivered. Rubbing his eyes he checked the wall chrono and groaned; his sleep cycle had been interrupted halfway through. He knew this would cause performance issues and groaned again.

Flicking another switch on the wall caused a trio of glowglobes on the ceiling to snap on. Walking over to the hab's kitchen unit he activated the stovetop and began heating a tin kettle of nutrient fluid and caffeine. After pulling on his pale green adept robe over his undershirt and boots he went to a tiny chest next to his sleep-sac and opened it. From it he pulled his little Icon Mechanicus medallion; a small copper thing on a flex-wire chain, and slipped it around his neck.

Grabbing his toolkit from the counter he slung the satchel over his shoulder. He took the warmed cup of nutrient fluid and downed it in a single gulp. Feeling warmed by the drink he set the kettle back on the counter, switched off the lights, and exited through the small door at the hab's front.

* * *

The night air on Herasalxes was cold and viscous and the street of the hab block was primarily empty. The largest portion of Jumper Shrike Hive's non-automated populace were still sleeping, a fact that he very much envied at the moment. Tall street lamp-globes illuminated his way as he walked down the Hab Avenue to the maglev station.

The train station was more heavily populated: night shift workers and various other hivers milled around the loading stations. Reading a directional node integrated in his noosphere led him to a terminal that led to his destination.

Standing with a small crowd with similar journeys, he felt some eyes study him with slight interest. Herasalxes was a relatively new colony, and had neither the resources nor strategic value to warrant a very large population; Jumper's Shrike was the largest of only three hives on the planet. The planet was more of a research base for the Imperium, and one of the Mechanicus like himself, although miserably un-modified, was somewhat of an exotic sight. He ignored the looks however as the maglev train slid to a hissing stop at the terminal.

He filed inside with the other hivers and sat down in one of the hard cushioned seats. The train lurched and began to pick up speed, lights outside of the window began to blur as the train moved through the hive networks.

With his body currently occupied, Lutho began to ponder exactly _why_ Magos Dreyard had called him so urgently. As Dreyard's Apprenta, he was privy to many of the Genetor's projects and information, and acted as his aide. However, matters of importance were usually handled by other Magi or more senior adepts. Surely this matter wasn't as great as it seemed… Yet, Dreyard had seemed very excited.

His musings were interrupted when his eyes picked up a shift in the light; the maglev had exited the hab levels and had entered Jumper's Shrike hive's industrial-commercial zone. Sparsely positioned manufactorums and foundry complexes littered the level, belching smoke and sparks from their glowing vents. Servitors and night shift hivers flocked the buildings, some close enough that Lutho could see their tired faces and machine modifications, others were far and looked like ants. Workers with anti-gravity sleds and teams of loader servitors entered and exited the plants, ferrying finished products to a distant row of boxy warehouses.

Then he caught sight of something that caught his interest: the hive's single and only Machine Temple. Rising above the hazy skyline like a tiered cross between a pyramid, castle, and a factory, the Temple was an immensely huge an imposing structure. Massive open exhaust vents seethed with glowing light and gargantuan exposed machinery pounded and whirred with the holy synchrony of the mechanical device. Rivers of molten metal poured over its rampart gates, into the workshops contained within. It was with no small amount of pride that he reminded himself that the Temple was the most productive and efficient industrial force on Herasalxes.

In a few more years even, with the growing industrial and Mechanicus presence on the hive, the Temple could be upgraded to a full Forge-Cathedral. His noosphere began to pick up data packets and streams from the Temple: Schedules, production outputs, and prayer script. From the Temple's noospheric aura, he saw that a service was being held for the late night workers who had just got off shift; he tapped an audio option for the broadcast and a flood of sound swelled within his head. The Liturgical music currently being played was a beautifully renditioned binaric song version of "The coming of the Omnissiah", a favorite of his. Resting back into the seat, he meshed his fingers in the Sign of the Cog, closed his eyes and lost himself in the music.

* * *

He was jerked back to reality when the train hissed and thumped to a stop at the Maglev station. Having arrived at his destination, he stood up among the sounds of tired groans and popping of stiff joints from the rest of the passengers. As they stepped off the train, Lutho was greeted by the monolithic tower of ferrocrete and alloy that was the Mechanicus Genetor Labs, and domain of his master, Magos Dreyard.

The labs were unadorned, save for a number of shuttered windows and pipes that vented steam and odd smelling gas. A quartet of pneumatic doors stood under the dead gaze of a large steel Icon Mechanicus bolted to the wall above them, its glowing red machine eye watchful of the small stream of Adepts and menials that trickled in and out of the building. A dozen weaponized servitors stood guard checking biometrics.

Walking up to one set of the doors, the servitors turned their arm mounted weapons towards him and one growled "Biometric Verification." He extended a hand, and the silver data plug snaked out and connected with the guard's port. Its red bionic eyes flashed as its cogitators processed the data, then stated "welcome Adept-Menialis." It turned its huge arms to allow him entry.

The steel doors hissed shut behind him as he entered the complex; the lobby was bare and efficient, with only a number of lifts to access higher levels as well as a number of cogitator terminals and a custodian servitor wired into a desk. Another half dozen guards stood rooted to their posts in the lobby, and their unnerving optics scanned and evaluated him.

The lobby itself was a mess of activity: Mechanicus, of all types swarmed through the room. Lowly menials and apprentas like him bustled about, performing errands for their masters, carrying gene samples or data-loom printouts. A sprinkling of Genetor scientists and magi accentuated the throng. Like a clockwork machine, the horde of people never once bumped against one another, despite the seeming chaos. The air in the dim lobby area was alive with noosphere; data packets and tides of code soared through the air like comets to their destinations and swarmed around hulking information files that swam slowly to their destinations like leviathans gliding in an ocean.

Using this stream of glorious data to avoid a collision with his fellows, Lutho wound his way through the lobby towards a nearby lift. As he passed the custodial servitor it turned its heavily modified face towards him.

11011010101 0101001010100 101001 it canted. "Thank you number eight, good morning to you too." He replied to it before stepping onto the open lift tube.

His gut lurched as the lift shot up the tunnel; a few moments later it came to a shuddering halt. Stepping out, he noticed that compared to the lobby below, the level his master's laboratory was situated on was deserted. Walking to the thick plasteel door to the lab, Lutho extended his data plug into its socket. With a beep and a hiss of hydraulics, it slid open.

* * *

It was unexpectedly dark; stepping cautiously into the lab he didn't detect his master's biometrics. "Magos…Sir?" he peered into the dark, looking for the tell tale glow of his master's augmented eyes.

"Lutho, blessed Omnissiah, what took you so long?" a distinctive metallic voice hashed from the dark. Suddenly, the lights in the room clicked on bright. Lutho scowled and shielded his eyes from the sensory overload.

When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the Genetor Magos, standing expectantly next to a row of specimen racks. He adjusted his robes and bowed while making the Sign of the Cog. "Magos Dreyard, you needed me?"

He may as well have said that to the wall. Dreyard merely motioned for him to join him next to the racks. He turned his steel masked face to him, and his glowing goggles shone with thought. "Six months ago, an explorator team of mine was surveying a newly found world. There, they discovered a highly unusual number of specimens…One week ago; the team arrived back, with the specimens in tow." Dreyard tapped a number of keys on a control panel. With a snort of releasing pressure, three of the metal containers slid open.

Lutho frowned questioningly; was this the big commotion that Dreyard had woken him from, some xenos oddity? His shoulders drooped slightly and he remembered how tired he was. But as the tubes had fully opened, his frown turned to a look of pure shock and surprise.

He had momentarily thought that the things on the racks were humans; but soon saw that their form was deviant from the shape of human. Their skin was pale, deathly even. One looked as though it might have been dark skinned once, but now was pallid. The other two were pale even beyond the skin of a Death Spectre Marine, and all of their skin glittered slightly, as though corpses freshly pulled from the frost of a morgue. One of the restrained creatures turned its eyes towards him; the irises are a dirty amber color, appearing flecked with blood. His mind clicked and his look of inquisitive curiosity turned to a scowl of pure distaste.

"_Mutants_" The word drops from his lips like sour bile, uttered with full out disgust. Dreyard nods, studying the aberrations on the racks before them. His next words are filled with similar vehemence.

"Your observation is correct. Yes, these…things are a mutant life form evolved from the human population on a hitherto isolated and unknown colony." Lutho felt waves of loathing roil in his gut as he looked at the things. "Just before formal contact with the native population was to be made, _they _were discovered. Some attempts were made to study them, and then we discovered their true nature." The old Magos was still, recalling the memory. Lutho listened, almost afraid to hear of the blasphemies his master would recall.

"They are creeping devils, abandoners to the holy form of man; their corrupted genes in polluted bodies. They sustain themselves by gorging on the pure, sanctified blood of their neighbors." A look of rapt horror plastered itself to the Adept-Menialis's face at these words.

"In righteous anger, my surveyors attempted to purge the mutants from existence. They were slaughtered. These filthy abominations are unnatural, nearly as fast as the accursed Eldar, and strong as an Ogryn. After losing many men, these three were eventually subdued." The Magos indicated the bonds that the mutants were held by; the plasteel shackles looked stout enough to hold back an enraged Ork.

"With their numbers depleted so severely, the surveyors had no choice but to return with what they had accomplished. It wasn't until later that we discovered their planet is _infested_ with their unholy race." Lutho was shocked, human mutation was rare, and on the occasion that it presented itself, mutations were usually isolated to a few members of a population; that this aberration could spread as far as Dreyard stated…

It didn't answer his question though. This was a significant discovery, and the inquisition would take good measure in eradicating these mutants, but it hardly made sense that his master would wake him so early just to exhibit some disordered creatures. He wanted to ask directly, but instead followed the topic.

"How could widespread mutation of this scale occur, master? Surely such abominations would have been found and exterminated!" Dreyard's eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and contemplation.

"I can read your biometric fluctuations, Apprenta; you still wonder at the reason I called you. Even after all this time, you still fail to hide your emotions." Lutho simply averted his eyes in embarrassment and said nothing. Dreyard's tone changed from mild chastisement to seriousness again. "But you are young, and cannot be held totally at fault. As for your question, that comes to the heart of the matter."

The scientist gestured broadly to the air around them. "During the great crusade, countless worlds were settled by our mighty Imperium; when the golden age ended, contact was lost with many, if not most of those worlds. Even today, uncounted forgotten colonies drift in the void, while others, like the one we discovered have stood isolated by warp storms." The Magos paused, thinking. "While most of my theories about these creatures are just that, it has been proven that the planet of their origin has until quite recently been obscured by a warp storm, which more than likely played a role in their creation."

Lutho eyed the three pale being warily, anything exposed to, or in close proximity of a warp storm faced the threat of daemonic influences. Either by body language or reading his biometric field, Dreyard noticed his unease and waved dismissively at the manacled figures.

"Don't worry; they aren't possessed, at least, not in any way you or I are familiar with. During the course of this world's history, the majority of the human population was unaffected by the warp energies. A small portion of the colonist's descendants, by some means I will not contemplate, attracted they virulent power of the storm. Perhaps over a matter of centuries, subtle mutations caused by the warp brought them to their current state." Holographic screens detailing observations of the creatures blossomed in the air. "These mutants are essentially dead. Their hearts do not beat, and they emit no exothermic energy; anesthetics are completely useless against them. As I stated, they subsist on the circulatory fluids of living beings, piercing the skin with their teeth and draining the victim like savage leeches."

Lutho looked up at the Magos with a puzzled expression. "Sir, you say all of their body systems, except er, their digestives do not seem to function, how do they repopulate, or could they be immortal?" Dreyard's formerly pensive look turned once again to angry disgust.

"Just as the leech secretes its venom to ease its feeding, so do these creatures. Their saliva glands have been transformed into some manner of venom sacs, which they secrete from their teeth when they attack. This venom is a mutagen in itself, and if a victim does not die from the initial attack, they will slip into a coma and be transformed by its recombinant toxins into another member of its species. You see my Apprenta, these creatures are sentient _viruses_, and are a plague on their world." At this final revelation, Lutho had the overwhelming desire to pick up a heavy lab instrument and break and beat the mutants before him to dust.

"Master, why tolerate these, these _blasphemies_? They affront the Emperor's holy plan! Sacred Cog, they are more a spawn of Nurgle than a harmonic creation of the universe; why haven't you alerted the Ordos, this heresy must be cleans-"The Magos held up a quieting manip arm and Lutho fell silent.

"The Inquisition has been informed." Lutho nodded his head emphatically at this.

"Then the Emperor's wrath goes to purge them; praises to the Omnissiah." Lutho started piously. Once again Dreyard silenced him with a raised arm.

"The Inquisition has been notified, but they do not go forth to exterminate the planet." When the Genetor's Apprenta began to stutter with outraged confusion, he continued in a calm tone. "Just as our far ancestors shaped the Life Eater virus to be an instrument of His wrath, perhaps our own generation can make use of this diseased organism." The Magos began to walk away from the specimen racks, with Lutho stumbling along behind.

"But of what benefit can be obtained by _heretics_? They are an insult to the natural order-their taint would only corrupt!" Dreyard stopped at a stack of locked cabinets. Plugging into the seal, the container hissed open. Dreyard reached a metal claw into it and pulled out a vial of clear, almost silvery fluid.

Instead of answering his question, Dreyard continued back to the rack with Lutho in tow.

"Apprenta, are you familiar with gene therapy?" Lutho frowned, puzzled; that was a rhetorical question for the assistant of a leading Genetor Magos, but answered with a simple yes.

"This liquid is a sample of these creature's venom secretions." Lutho's lips curled with distaste at the foul substance. "It is essentially their genetic material; within this fluid, is every heathen trait they possess in their bodies." Setting down the vial, Dreyard stood before one of the bound mutants. His robes shifted as a dendrite arm unfurled from his back; a monomolecular cutting blade extended from it. With a whiplash motion Dreyard slashed the blade across the mutant's bared chest. There was a flash of sparks and a howl of pain from the mutant. The Magos' blade had carved a deep furrow along the thing's torso.

Lutho was despite himself impressed, a strike that would have easily eviscerated the stoutest guardsman had only carved a powerful deep line in its skin. Muffled wheezing came from the thing and blackish ichor welled from the wound.

Re-curling the bladed arm beneath his robes, Dreyard turned to him. "The mutations of this race are many; predominantly among these are these creature's skins. They are as hard as sheet granite, as you were able to witness firsthand." He gestured to the injured mutant. "However, their impure and barbaric adaptations are flawed: their skin is abnormally strong, but now they are incapable of healing from dealt wounds."

Lutho nodded, "but what does this have to do with helping the Imperium?"

"Their genetic material doubles as a mutagenic recombinant. Properly refined and distilled, as well as some trial tests, it may be possible to separate these beneficial traits and improve and incorporate them into our own." He gestured with bravado "Imagine it, our space marines, already formidable; now with skin more durable than the hardest stone, but able to heal, their durability nearly tripled!"

Once again, Lutho had to admit that Dreyard had a point; the idea _was_ tempting. But still he was confused.

"If that is so, you have _three_ individuals here and now. Why keep the planet intact when you have a supply of their genetic material here? Why not purge the abominations to hell, and send these three following once we finish our work?" Dreyard simply chuckled, a fully unnerving sound coming from his machine voice box.

"Alas, Apprenta, they have deviated too far from the template of humanity; no amount of work will make it compatible with pure humans. Any attempts with these specimens would simply bring about the heretical traits, or have no effect at all." Lutho began to open his mouth with another question but Dreyard interrupted him. "But, there is an unintentional save to this project. Among some of that world's peoples, contact has been made between humans and mutants…Some have led to relationships-to _crossbreeding_. The Magos' last sentence was uttered with thinly restrained fury.

The Apprenta blanched and had to struggle not to retch, "h-heresy!" he shouted, feeling sick. Dreyard nodded before continuing.

"Despite the implications, these heretics will be dealt with later. Since these…Hybrids are slightly purer in blood, though blood willingly tainted, I believe that they are the key to creating a compatible version. The Inquisition agrees, though reluctantly."

Deciding that it was time enough, Lutho spoke up directly. "But what does that have to do with me, sir?"

"Two reasons Lutho. First, a discovery like this would mean immense glory to whoever brought it to fruition, if I organized a mass crusade to seize this hybrid, competition would be devastating; secrecy is our best asset in this. The Inquisition has agreed to remain quiet to ensure our success. Second, to be frank Lutho; I trust you. I know you won't go behind my back and sell this secret to another; you are the only person I can surely rely on. That is why you will be leading the expedition Apprenta."

* * *

**_Well, so heres whats going on. Lutho Arnier, Adept-Menialis to Genetor Magos Dreyard Vorxan is shown the discovery of a new race of mutants on a lost colony. Instead of being instantly purged by the Ordos, it has been discovered that the hybrids of these mutants could be used to synthesize a formulae to give space marines far increased durability. Not wanting to attract attention to this, the Inquisition has agreed to keep silent; and Dreyard has chosen his Apprenta to lead the expedition to retrieve this hybrid and determine if a working serum can be produced._**

**_Note: This will not be a curbstomp, and hopefully the other chapters wont draw on and on like this one, so hope you will enjoy and review._**


End file.
